


Nobody Loves No One

by Iwantutobehapppier



Category: Avengers (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied Physical Abuse, Parental Issues, Verbal Abuse, Violence, rough childhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22982773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwantutobehapppier/pseuds/Iwantutobehapppier
Summary: You know one thing, James Buchanan Barnes was trustworthy and you weren’t. When he inserts himself into your family drama and past can you show you’re worthy of his trust or deign to hurt him as most of life has?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 24





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I’ve been working on for a while. I really hope you all enjoy it. I’m not sure how many chapters it will break up into. I am still working on the 2k requests I promise! I just really wanted to get this out there after months of working on it. I once saw a note on an AO3 story where it said “Continues to aggressively ignore canon” that’s how it is here. Steve didn’t go to the past, Avengers Compound rebuilt and everyone is alive. I hope you all enjoy! Kudos and comments welcomed :)

There wasn’t a moment you knew him that you didn’t trust him. The harsh realization that you never felt this way about anyone else, family included, made keeping him at a distance the only option but hard to follow through with. 

He noticed right away, after all, he was trained in the art of reading a situation. Honestly, you weren’t trying to be subtle just trying to protect. This only made him seek you out more.

James Buchanan Barnes was trustworthy, you weren’t.

You killed for fun in the past, enjoyed the hunt and more than anything lived for the warmth of your enemy’s blood spilling down your hands. Winter Soldier didn’t have a choice in his killings but you did and you always made the right choice, at least when you got older.

You became an Avenger to circumvent jail time and the killing became more methodical and less for pleasure. It was to complete the mission not bask in the trail of destruction you could cause. The first time you killed someone like the old days on a mission was in front of Steve and Bucky. 

Blood from your broken nose covered your upper lip and chin. When the HYDRA agent punched you square in the jaw you screamed out, not in pain. 

With a glower, you grabbed the startled agent by the shoulders and chucked him to the ground using your superhuman strength.

You whipped your boot knife out and fell on top of them using the momentum of your fall to push the blade completely into their chest. A gleeful smile pulled at your lips, your eyes dilated in pleasure watching the light fade from the shocked face of your adversary.

Steve calls out your name, you look up to the sight of him and Bucky charging towards you.

“We heard you scream,” Steve’s voice trailed off, he slowed his approach at your blood-stained teeth on display in a sadistic smile. 

Bucky continued forward, the deranged look did a lot to him but never a deterrent.

“You alright Toots?” You cocked your head to the side at the sound of his voice. The smile slipped from your face looking down in practiced shame.

“I’m fine.” A hollow whisper.

Bucky stood next to you placing his metal hand under your chin forcing you to face up.

“Come on, there are more goons you can stab like a lunatic.” You stood up your eyes hooded as an unhinged smile pulled at the corner of your lips.

They saw you in your most primal and pleasure-filled state, where Steve was cautious Bucky became fascinated.

He spent more time with you outside of missions, even had you watch movies during your joined insomnia fits. You learned he had a sweet tooth but only if cherry flavored or chocolate. He loved documentaries, he had watched Cosmos five times. When you introduced him to NOVA the two of you spent an entire night watching your favorites.

He told you about HYDRA late nights when the majority of the team would be away on missions, the violence and how it hurt when they’d wipe the slate clean. He only felt safe sharing in isolation, worried others could overhear even across the compound.

You joked once that it didn’t matter after the data dump everyone knew. He was hurt at first but understood you were only trying to spare him the need to hide who he had been.

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows.” He leaned into you on the bench at the lake dock. The stars and waning moon illuminating your furrowed brow in memory.

“I was 13 when I killed someone for the first time.” The shame you had trained yourself to feel when enjoying death didn’t come. Instead, you felt that smile Bucky liked to see on missions pulled at your lips.

“13 eh? What’d they do?” His eyes drifting towards you, that smile made him want to kiss you. Your lack of shame and his abundance something that drew the two of you together. A dysfunctional balance.

“Short version?” You ignored his gaze knowing he would look but never touch inappropriately. “He was touching a friend of mine in a way no adult should so I made sure he couldn’t touch anyone ever again.” You felt him tense as you leaned against him sharing the bench. A fleeting thought of maybe you shouldn’t have shared this chased away when his metal arm wrapped around your shoulders fingers so gentle curled around your shoulder.

“That was the first time I learned someone could bleed out. I didn’t mean to kill him honestly just wanted him to stop.” Your tone petulant.

A rough chuckle fell from his lips causing your body to shake as you remain against him. His arm pulled your back almost flat to his chest.

“Well Toots I’m sure ya learned real quick how to let ‘em bleed without dying on ya”

You nodded your head in agreement, lesson learned indeed. You laid down, your head on his lap, a hand behind his head you toy with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Before Bucky would be embarrassed at the sudden intimacy but now he closes his eyes, an unconscious soft rumble pulled from deep in his chest past his lips. 

Touching him with such ease was a slow progression that only happened in private. Neither of you ashamed but both apprehensive to show such affection openly. You could recall a time he would remain tense when your hand would rest on top of his. The ease in which you touched him slowly opened him to reciprocate and now you often found each other in such intimate but innocent embraces. 

“You?”

“What people assume is a Nazi back in '43,” there’s a pause, gauging whether he could trust you as you trusted him. Like a fool he did.

“The truth is?” You implored he huffed, pushing your hair from your face he rested his metal arm on your stomach the other at the top of your head gently caressed the furrow wrinkles on your forehead.

“A guy Steve tried to stop from knifin’ this lady in an ally. He nicked Steve’s arm and I lost it.” Bucky took a deep breath, his metal hand on your stomach bunched up your shirt in a fist.

“I was so scared of Steve bein’ killed…I couldn’ stop myself. I only realized the guy was unconscious when Steve started yellin’ my name.” Bucky swallow audible. “Saw his obit’ in the paper a few days later.”

“So we both didn’t mean to.” A short laugh escapes your lips.

“Accidental murders?” You shake your head at the idea.

“No never an accident. Always with intent even if I didn’t know he’d bleed out I never regretted what I did to him.” He was silent at that, you both knew he couldn’t say the same there was too much unintentional and innocent blood on his hands. 

“So how’d a 13-year-old girl get rid of a body?” You grimace and turn to face the lake, his metal hand slinking up your raised shirt. The cool metal hand resting on your lower stomach. He never pushed boundaries, though you would never admit it out loud you wished he would.

“Uh, so my father’s a butcher and well he had this industrial meat grinder.” Bucky’s brows shot up.

“Oh, please tell me you pulled a Sweeney Todd?” Bucky’s love of musicals endearing especially when you’d catch him humming or the rare chance singing under his breath.

“My father would have killed me,” you paused Bucky noticed the far off look in your eyes as you took in the softening hues of the horizon. 

“I told him the next day after I put the remains in the dump.” You trailed off remembering your father’s tantrum. “He was upset don’t get me wrong but I think that was the first time he was proud of me.” With a bitter laugh, you sat up. Bucky pulled his hands from you with remorse, he wished he could remain in an intimate embrace forever, even if he didn’t deserve such pleasures.

“But daddy issues will have to be for another night because looks like dawn is breaking.” You nodded your head across the lake.

“Hmm, I like a girl with daddy issues.” Bucky joked but you were fairly certain he meant it.

“I’ve got more than you can handle Barnes.” You both stand stretching out your stagnant muscles before making way back to the compound to start another day with minimal sleep. Walking ahead you missed his last remark.

“You’ve got no idea how much I can handle toots.”

~~*~~*~~*~~

Late one night you returned from a mission with Natasha. Parting ways you made your way to your quarters when halfway down the hall you hear soft whimpers, pausing you listen for where they could be coming from. 

An agonizing cry carries through the door to your right. Bucky. Your heart began to race as you put your hand on the door handle. If he was hurting you didn’t want him to be alone. But was it your place to encroach in his personal life like this? You two were friends, close friends, but was this a boundary you could cross?

The whimpering starts back up and before you can think further you’re entering the room. It’s dark, but you can make out Bucky’s form tossing on his bed. You place one knee on the bed leaning over him, trailing your hand up to his flesh arm gently, trying to rouse him from his inner demons.

“Bucky,” The docile tone barely carries but it’s enough for him to still, with your other hand you brush his hair off his damp forehead. His brow softens and you hate the way your heart flutters in response. 

He rolls over to his side, his back to you and you remove your hand from his arm hoping this was enough to ease his demons for the night. A metal hand quickly wraps around our wrist. You try not to react, keeping yourself calm.

“Stay,” His voice is sleep ridden, the deep richness much more alluring than should be possible. He tugs your arm and you fall onto his bed. Your chest against this back.

“Please” You ache, his voice shaky and vulnerable, you wrap your arm around him, placing your palm center in his chest and rest your head on your bent arm. 

“Of course,” Is all you can muster as he burrows into you. His breath evening out quickly. 

When morning comes you aren’t sure what to expect but it certainly wasn’t this. Your fingers curl into a soft shirt as sleep began to fade, laying on your stomach your cheek pressed against warm firm muscles. Your eyes snap open and lookup.

Clear blue eyes peer down at you, Bucky halfway propped up against his headboard. The soft side smile curling on his lips makes stupid fluttering in your chest again. Oh, this was not good. Bucky’s arms curled around your back pushing you into him. Or was this perfect?

“Morning Toots,” the timbre of his voice pulls you back to reality. 

“Morning,” Slowly sitting up to one side of the bed you stretch your arms above your head looking around. It hadn’t been even 4 hours since you crawled in bed with him but it felt like you had a full night rest. Looking out the corner of your eyes you catch Bucky still watching you. 

“Thanks for last night,” A warm hand rests on your back, it’s comforting in a way you can barely remember feeling in your life. 

“Of course,” you mutter feeling uncomfortable with your own emotions. Bucky raises a brow at the shift, clouds forming over his eyes insecurity at seeing and hearing about his night terrors two different things.

“I mean,” You try to recover, not wanting to hurt him with your own damage. “Of course I’d be there for you.” looking at your lap you finger the hem of your sleep wrinkled shirt. “There’s no one I’d be there for more,” you look back at him bitting your lower lip, “Thank you Bucky.”

Something shifted, his eyes softening with an easy smile. You squeak when he pulls you back into the pillows. 

“Alright Toots,” he mutters, your head below his chin both facing upward. “Let’s watch some morning cartoons then maybe breakfast?”

You nod your head unable to utilize your voice at this intimacy. 

~~*~~*~~*~~

“I told you I’d take care of it just like I told you never to call me.” Bucky paused at your cracked door, alarmed by the uncharacteristic rush of words and panic in your voice.

“They aren’t gonna do shit,” he knew he shouldn’t be listening on what was clearly a private conversation but he could never stop himself when it came to you.

“Pops, they know if they pull anything I’ll take them down and this time it won’t be innocent getting hurt. They’re all plenty guilty.” Bucky could hear your teeth grind together spitting the words out.

Bucky could make out an older male voice saying your name with worry over the phone thanks to the serum enhancements. Worry over what was still unclear.

“They came round last night is all and gave their cryptic bullshit.” Loud coughing came through on the phone “I thought you should know. Don’t let me stop you from playing the superhero.”

When the cell phone beeped for end call Bucky made his way towards his room. 

He didn’t see you again that day until he came to your door to see what movie you’d like to watch later. You were pulling your worn leather jacket on and the look on your face told him he wasn’t going to like whatever you had to say.

“I’m sorry Buck but I gotta take care of some personal matters and I don’t know how late I’ll be.” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth in worry. Missing time with Bucky seems like a crime considering how close you two had grown over the months.

He wanted to say I heard you on the phone don’t do whatever stupid thing you might be doing alone but all he could get out was “That’s alright, you want some company?”

“Nah, I think I should go it alone. Maybe next time?” You offered. Wouldn’t it be nice to introduce him to your family? Pretend for a moment both of you weren’t cracked pieces but instead friends with normal nuclear families.

But you didn’t play pretend, not anymore.

“Be safe Toots.” You left with nothing else.

He followed you if you wouldn’t invite him along he’d at least keep an eye on you. Bucky knew you would only be upset if he got in the way but also knew if you needed help you weren’t someone to ask for it. Your tone on that call left him feeling uneasy about you going alone, while you didn’t need protecting Bucky couldn’t help the way he felt. 

He almost lost you right away when Steve just had to show him this cute video he found online.

“I’ve gotta go, man!” Bucky’s knees bounced erratically as he sat at the table waiting for Steve to pull the video up on his tablet.

“Jeez, where do you even need to be?” Steve muttered navigating the tablet.

“I’ve got stuff going on outside this place.” Steve eyed Bucky but nodded his head. 

“I can’t find it right now anyway. Go on and stop acting like you’ve got ants in your pants.” Bucky took off before Steve had even finished.

By the time he caught up, you had passed Hackensack and still heading south. Where you going into the city? He knew you were from the city but not sure where.

Keeping a safe distance you both made it to Staten Island. He shook his head taking in the sights of what used to be bustling areas of Staten Island now run down with some abandoned industrial buildings and overpopulated projects.

When you stopped in front of a butchery he knew this was the place and grabbed his trusted Betsy, useful in keeping a proper eye on you and safe. Not that you needed a lot of help with the latter. Looking across the street at the destitute multi-family building he decided that would be the most advantageous. 

You walked into the brick worn store feeling nostalgia and apprehension all at once with the dinging of the doorbell atop the door frame.

“Pops?” You called out trailing your fingers across the wrapped hanging meats. He hadn’t moved the unsold meat to the walk-in yet. You remembered long-lasting bruises from beatings over not getting the meat back in the chiller before dinner.

Your name was called out from the back but it sounded strained. Your brow creased, slowly making your way to the back end of the establishment.

Taking notice of the walk-in fridge door open and the yellowed overexposed strip curtains flapping you called out for your dad once more and his response sounding strained still from inside the fridge.

Standing a few feet in front of the barely see through curtains you could make out what appeared to be your dad in a chair. If you weren’t suspicious before you knew now, things weren’t right.

You took one step closer to the walk-in before someone charged out, a pipe in hand. Grabbing the pipe before it could impact, you head butt the would-be assailant gaining a sick satisfaction from the sound of their skull cracking. Your enhanced strength and skeletal makeup always fun for taking out bad guys.

A forearm wrapped around your neck from behind, you managed to get one hand between the arm and your neck to keep direct pressure off. Feeling the muscle in the arm and chest now pressed against your back you knew this one would take more work.

With a macabre smile, you began to charge the two of you back to the front of the shop slamming their back into a meat display case. Once the grip loosened from the behind, you flipped him from behind by holding the back of his neck, letting him land on his ass in front of you. Without missing a beat you snap his neck and release him to crumple on the floor.

“How many more?” You grunted.

“I don’t know shithead maybe 20? They went upstairs.” Your father’s hoarse voice called from the walk-in. As you passed by and lifted a curtain slat to make sure he was alright you noticed the worn lines along his face you were unfamiliar with. In the past decade of your life, you had avoided him as much as possible, unwilling to subject yourself to his verbal abuse.

“You gonna die on me old man?” Helping him stand you took a catalog of his wounds nothing seemed severe, appearing they only roughed him up saving the lethal force for you.

Making your way up to your father’s flat just above the shop you tried to quell the fluttering in your chest at the thought of all the carnage you were about to unleash. Seeing the light underneath the door you were almost giddy with excitement. No Avengers here to see the delight you took in pain.

Rolling your shoulders back and cracking your neck you whipped out two knives and kicked the door in, sending it off its hinges and into the room. The men inside are dressed in the typical mog sleaze attire you almost roll your eyes but knew better. They charged and you retaliated. 

The sound of a window shattering followed by bodies drop you around you and high power rounds freeze your assailants in place but you fall to the floor for protection. 

They brought a sniper?!

You were stunned as the men sent to attack you had bullets flying through their skulls. With a grimace, you stood back up realizing who was behind the gun. 

“Bucky,” you hissed in agitation.

Taking out a guy charging to your right from the kitchen with a quick uppercut feeling the jaw crush at impact and foot to the chest cracking ribs and sending them flying into a wall, you made your way over the pile of bodies to the shattered window.

Stilling you heard the baseboards behind you creak, ducking you whip your head back and smiled at the sound of a whizzing bullet flying through the air. The man behind you falling to the ground.

Standing up straight you lifted the holey curtain to the side looking up at the rooftop across the street. 

Under the cover of darkness, you could make out his metal hand giving a two-finger wave and his stupid handsome boyish smile. Nodding your head in thanks, you made your way back downstairs to your father, assured Bucky would be there in no time as well.

You found your father dragging a body from the front end of the shop towards the basement access leaving a trail of blood. Rolling your eyes you lifted the body up with ease then proceeded to toss it down the basement stairs.

He stared you down, keeping eye contact you raised an eyebrow challenging the old man to say a word. Before the traditional verbal sparring could start between you two the sound of boots crushing on broken glass interrupts.

Your father puts his fists up at Bucky’s dark shadow leaning against the frame between the front and back of the shop. Bucky studied the body language between the two of you. Your father was a short man and the only visible familiarity the scowl you both pointed his way.

“Pops, this is a friend. That’s my job right?” Your father side-eyes you, one that used to scare you as a child now reminds you how much you hated him as a kid.

“We need to call the team,” Bucky made his way towards the two of you.

“No!” Your father and you echo. Bucky’s brow rises in suspicion, stopping mid-step.

“Listen, Barnes,” Bucky frowned at the formality. “I don’t expect you to understand but I’ve got old contacts that can help me take care of this.” You try to keep it vague knowing he’d press you about it later if he felt it was pertinent.

“Yeah Barnes,” your father’s chest-puffing out and you roll your eyes at him trying to assert dominance. “They’re pretty good at cleaning up these messes shithead makes.”

“My mess?!” Your face written with disbelief. “ Pretty sure you made this one all on your own.” He really hadn’t changed over the years, never any culpability. Arguing you missed the way Bucky’s eyes narrowed on your father. 

“Now shithead,” Bucky’s hands curled into fists at your father’s disparaging words. “I may have caused the situation but you laid the bodies down.”

The animosity in the back of your father’s butchery was palpable. Just like growing up. The only new piece in the aquation being Bucky’s steely glare pointed at your father. You didn’t have it in you to wonder why he held such a hard look for a man he just met. Though your father didn’t really instill much camaraderie in strangers, let alone in his own family.

“Call them and clean up the shop old man." Walking past your father he grabbed your upper arm, looking back at him, his eyes softened in an abnormal manner. 

"Don’t be dumb,” his voice full of concern caught you off guard. Not knowing how to handle this side of a man you only knew as rough you pulled your arm from his grip.

“It’s all I know how to be right?” Looking at Bucky you nodded your head to follow him out the front. Missing the remorseful look of your father.

Standing in front of the store with Bucky you feel nervous. When he steps in front of you keeping eye contact you lift your head up and feel your heartbeat faster but not from the adrenaline of a fight.

His eyes locked onto the blood marring your check, his right hand comes up to wipe clean. You stop breathing for the briefest of a moment at his touch.

“You’re dad’s a real charmer, Toots.” You chuckle shaking your head causing his hand to fall away. “I’m starting to see why you killed so young, dad like that would drive anyone to violence." 

You can’t help the glare you direct at him.

"He didn’t drive me to murder, not at first at least.” Bucky opened his mouth to clearly inquire what that meant but you cut him off.

“I appreciate your help Buck,” you rest your hand on his left shoulder squeezing gently where metal meets flesh “I really do but I’ve gotta do the next step on my own.”

“And what’s that?” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows and you sighed, it was hard to refuse those beautiful blue eyes.

“If you’re gonna come with I’m afraid you’ll get more red on your hands.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders with a flare of dramatics your hand slipping off. 

“I’d hate to miss seeing that little crooked smile you get when you enjoy a kill.” He takes a step closer, your breaths mixing. “Really gets me going.” His words and smirk that slides over his face pull a gasp from you. 

“James Barnes!” Your tone hushed with an indiscernible tone, “your momma know you talk to ladies like that?”

His smile only widened, skin folding at the corner of his eyes. 

“What she don’t know won’t hurt 'er.” He lifted his hand gesturing towards his car. “Betsy’s secure in the back waiting to see what other shenanigans you can get her into tonight.” You snickered at his nickname for his m249.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know one thing, James Buchanan Barnes was trustworthy and you weren’t. When he inserts himself into your family drama and past can you show you’re worthy of his trust or deign to hurt him as most of life has?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you for coming back for chapter two! 💖 I am trying to get these out weekly and I don’t see that being an issue. Things are still building and the smut is coming. Hahah If you’re holding out hold out just a smidge longer. 😘

The drive should have been short but Bucky got a bit turned around or at least that’s what he claimed, blaming the change in road names from his more formative years. Though you doubted that had truly changed.

“Your dad gets into trouble often?” Bucky’s casual tone did little to hide his curiosity. He had always prided himself on being shrouded in mystery but you were just a mystery.

“Not lately but the old man seems to think to make deals with the local gang is better than taking money from his Avenger daughter.” You miss Bucky’s eyebrows raising, you weren’t kidding on having father issues. “Even if they’ll kill him when he fails to pay back.”

“Too much pride?” You remain silent, “too much guilt then?” You feel a stab in your chest, Bucky was too observant and it was impacting your ability to keep your private life just that, private. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset over it, after all, if you trusted anyone to know these parts of you it’s him. However, you weren’t going to be forthcoming.

“Listen Bucky I’m all for team building and such but this isn’t a ‘let’s get to know the weird father-daughter relationship’ moment.” You look out the passenger window making air quotes, the familiar run-down buildings setting you on edge for the second time tonight.

“This is a ‘help your teammate kill a bunch of local thugs from killing her lousy excuse of a father’ moment.” When Bucky stops the car he turns his head towards you as you continue. 

“And then maybe,” you emphasized by pushing your pointer finger in his chest and he had to hold back the smile that would certainly piss you off, “Maybe we can talk about aforementioned fucked up relationship.”

“Annoyed always looks good on you,” Bucky steps out of the car missing the way you ground your teeth together at his smart ass response. Stepping out of the car you mutter, “I will not kill my teammate, I will not kill my teammate.”

“What was that Toots?” Bucky calls out setting Betsy’s barrel upside down on his shoulder. 

“Nothing,” Bucky smirks, able to hear you clear as day but to miss an opportunity to tease you wasn’t in Bucky. 

Rolling the silencer on your handgun you make your way around the corner to the front of a building you had thought left in your past. The double doors had one guy with a bat in his hand guarding. You held back a scoff if they knew you were coming clearly they forgot how you took care of business. Though back then your business was taking care of their issues, not them.

Walking up to the man before he could raise his bat you shot him dead center in the forehead. Bucky whistled as the body slumped to the ground.

Opening the double doors you took out two more mob thugs while Bucky pulls the bat-wielding thug into the building by his metal arm. 

“This is gonna get messy huh?” Bucky trusted you wouldn’t kill an innocent or lure him to do the same but he had to express his concerns.

“Anyone in here would shoot you and your family before you could ask for mercy.” Bucky signaled towards the hallway on your right, his hearing picking up the sound of oncoming footsteps.

“You used to do the killing for us.” A short older man pointed a machine gun at you three others behind him. Without a response, you shot him in the chest and then in the head as Bucky’s gun went off three times in a row taking care of the gentlemen’s back up. 

You didn’t dare look at Bucky, not wanting to answer the questions he probably had until this was all over.

After plenty of bullets, snapped necks and broken limbs you cracked your knuckles at the “final boss” door. This door was familiar though, you had spent a good portion of your youth protecting the people behind it and fighting their battles for them all at the expense of your humanity just to pay your father’s debts. 

“I’d rather you stay out here Bucky.” He chortled and shook his head in disbelief.

“Not gonna happen.” He stepped up next to you bumping his shoulder against yours. You sighed, your shoulders raising at the growing anxiety of what Bucky may hear. Turning your head towards him he looked at you from the corner of his eyes then turns at his waist.

Reaching over with his metal hand he wiped away blood splattered on your cheek once again. If he were being honest with himself he’d tell you he hated seeing that crimson red stain your beautiful face. But he wasn’t always good at being honest with himself.

You study his face trying to get a read on him after so much shared carnage. There’s a softness in his eyes that’s misplaced in a room full of death.

“Just remember I never said I was always a good person.” Before Bucky could ask any follow-up questions you kicked the steel-reinforced door in, watching it fall down.

A smile played at the corner of your lip hearing the cry of a man being crushed under the weight of the door and the following crunching coupled with a pain-filled groan as you both stepped on top of the door making your way into the room.

Bucky checked the magazine in Betsy as you survey the remaining five thugs and a weathered senior man sitting at a desk center of the room. His hand resting on a firearm laid on top of the desk. No one appeared to be making the first move.

“Well well.” The old man’s voice nails on a chalkboard, just like all those years ago. You had to stop yourself from charging at him when he spoke your name with fondness.

“Keep my name out of your mouth!” You command.

“Come on now, you can’t be mad at me after everything?” His sun leathered hand patting the handgun still resting on the desk. Your eyes cut to the worn corner where the wood was lighter with indents from your head being slammed against it when you failed as a teenager and young adult.

“After all your father is the one who brought you into this,” his other hand waved around the room, “Only fitting this world be the reason for his demise?” You curled your fingers into fists at your side. Bucky glances down with a creased brow, standing up a bit straighter in reaction.

“Whatever he owes, whatever he did isn’t worth his life Marco.” Marco chuckled. “Either I kill you or you let me pay what he owes, with interest.”

Marco stands up slamming both hands on the desk yelling out in Italian, Bucky aims Betsy dead center in Marco’s chest. You catch the movement out of the corner of your eye satisfied at his reflexes. Always nice to have a super-soldier master assassin on your side.

“He is bad man,” his voice thick with broken English with his growing ire “You know better than any.”

“He lives?” Marco raises his hands up as he speaks. “No, no. That’s not the code you swore to when you left me.” He smiles keeping eye contact. You nod to Bucky and he lowers his gun, confused but trusting you.

“Badman is a dead man, no? Tesoro,” his works eerily soft causing you to flinch, “he deserves to pay for what he made you do.”

“What you made me do.” You gritted out between clenched teeth. Your hands flexed open and closed along your pant legs.

“A-ah. He brought you to me, a gift, a debt paid. He is just as guilty if not more.” His voice was full of the condescension you were much too familiar with. It was like stepping back in time except you knew this old decrepit man held no fear over you and could do nothing in retaliation, nothing long-lasting at least.

“Just think about it, Tesoro.” the nickname rolling off your tongue makes you want to wretch. “I know he is your father but what would your sweet moth-” before he could finish a knife flew from your hand, planting firmly between his eyes. Not missing a moment Bucky fired in quick succession laying waste to remaining thugs in the room before they even knew their boss was dead.

Marco’s voice cracks as if still trying to finish the word before going silent and crumpling across the ornate desk chair. Walking up to Marco’s corpse you pulled the knife out wiping the blood on his shirt before putting it away.

Pulling out your phone you went to recent and waited for an answer.

“You did it, shithead?” Bucky could hear over the phone, his brow still furrowed. He had to wonder what kind of man was your father? If this was any glimpse, none at all.

“It’s done, send the cleanup.” You pause watching the color drain from Macro’s body. “Don’t ever call me again.” You assert before hanging up still looking at Marco’s face. Bucky took a step towards you. He stretches his arm out to place his hand on your shoulder but stilled when you spat in Marco’s face.

Bucky caught the small tremors in your hands as you placed your phone back in your pocket. The ragged breath you pulled in left an ache in his chest. He was overwhelmed by the need to hold you in his embrace until you feel safe. Have you ever felt safe?

Even with everything he had done in the war and as a brainwashed HYDRA assassin he could still remember feeling loved and safe. The way his mother would card her fingers through his hair when he couldn’t sleep as a child. Or how it felt when his sisters would dogpile on him. He felt safe. 

He had to wonder once more did you ever feel safe? He wasn’t so sure.

“Fucking hated this place. Let’s go!” You extolled, turning around to face Bucky with a haunting smile. 

This was different than his beloved murder smile. Whatever this was, he knew it was a front. It reminded him of all those smiles Steve would give him after army rejections. A smile to hide the pain.

~~~***~~~~***~~~

The ride back to your car in front of your father’s shop was silent. Which between the two of you wasn’t uncharacteristic but there was a newfound tension like static in the air.

What could you share with him that could ease his mind? What parts of you were left to give? Your train of thought was halted as Bucky pulled up next to your parked car.

“See you back at the compound.” Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he spoke. You opened the car door, the smell of the incoming dawn wafting into the small confines of the car. You started to leave the car but paused

“I-uh,” Bucky watched you from the corner of his eyes. His fingers relax their hold on the steering wheel waiting for what you had to say. “I have a place not far from here,” Bucky raises an eyebrow and you grunted.

“After all that happened tonight, I’d much rather lay in bed than drive all the way upstate.” Bucky nodded in agreement.

“I’ll see you when you get back then Toots.” You sighed, rather dramatically Bucky let out a soft chuckle.

“I’m inviting you to join you, idiot.” His eyes narrowed at the name-calling. After tonight he didn’t want to hear another disparaging word out of your mouth for a while, if ever. It only reminded him of how you have been treated.

“I’ll come with but don’t talk to me like you do your father.” His tone clipped but you simply smiled back at him as you stepped out of the car texting Bucky the address.

“Thought you wanted to be my Daddy, Barnes?” He didn’t miss the coquettish tone and smile but failed to reciprocate. 

“From what I can tell that man was no dad.” Bucky looked down at his phone surprised how close the address was. “See you there.” He finalized and you shut the door making your way to your own vehicle. 

~~~***~~~~***~~~

When Bucky entered your fifth-floor apartment he wasn’t sure what he’d find in a space that was entirely your own. At the compound you kept things pretty minimal, some jewelry on a dresser, clothes organized, a black and white poster of some European city during the day but no real personal effects. Hell outside of a photo Wanda gave you from a team outing there was nothing in your room that showed who it belonged to.

Bucky found it odd at first however if anyone came into his room he wasn’t sure there’d be terribly too much to indicate it was his either outside. Maybe the workout bench and weights he kept when he didn’t want to be in the gym with others. There was also that vintage New York Dodgers poster you bought for him, similar to the one you got for Steve. 

Seeing your apartment, it made sense to him now, you kept yourself here. The living room was full of warm tones, throw blankets that looked dangerously soft, two giant filled bookcases and photos all over the place. Soft lighting encasing the room in comfort.

“It’s not much,” your voice pulling him from his analysis, “but it’s mine.” The soft ending in your tone warmed him, it was clear you were trusting him with something no one else had seen. 

The pile of mail on the other side of the door you picked up along with dust he could see on the bookcases alluded to it being a place you hadn’t seen in a while. Sensing his scrutiny you felt the need to justify yourself.

“I used to stay here more often but the compound is easier for missions,” You set the pile of mail on the old writing desk across from a small kitchen. Bucky’s eyes caught on a framed photo next to the mail. A young woman is holding a toddler in front of your father’s butchery, the building looks newer than it does now and the woman in clothes not of a recent style.

“Who’s that?” Bucky looks up to catch you stretching your arms above you with your back facing him. Watching the small of your back slowly be revealed as the shirt rises, he licks his lips rapidly losing interest in the photo. But when you turned around and caught sight of what he was referring to you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

“That’s me and Mom,” you turn back around. Only then does he realize she does look an awful lot like you or was it you looked like her? The stark difference was her face, it appeared softer. 

Your face often held hard lines that Bucky wanted to soften with his hands. Your edges so jagged, he longed to cut himself on them. Know you intimately, deeper levels you rarely showed. The times your face would soften the most recently have been over the past few months with him. A small part of him hoping it meant you were opening up to him in ways he could burrow inside and never leave.

Bucky set his duffle back containing Betsy and gear on the floor next to the one you had set down before grabbing the mail.

“Where your ma’?” Bucky trailed his fingers on the desk as he followed behind you slowly. You turn your head and he sees your side profile, the soft lights do little to hide the pain in your eyes.

“Same place as yours.” He inhales quickly at your response. “Shower down the way there,” you gesture towards a cracked open door. “Bed is that way.” You gestured to the hallway opposite of bathroom door and make your way down the same hallway as he heads towards the bathroom. A good scrubbing sounded nice.

When Bucky stepped out of the shower he noticed the dark blue sweatpants and a grey shirt laying on the bathroom counter that were certainly not there before. A soft blush covered his cheeks at the thought of you walking in on him showering. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you and the past few hours. Had he been so distracted in the shower that he missed you coming in? That wasn’t like him at all. 

However, he left his guard down around you more so than he should, at least that’s what Steve had expressed concern over. Bucky shook his head, what did that punk know anyway? He couldn’t even talk to women.

After drying his hair until slightly damp he pulled the sweatpants on. They were almost too snug on him but clearly too big for you. The thought that someone else, a guy particularly, leaving them here caused an unsettling burn in his chest. He knew you weren’t his but he’d be lying if he didn’t relish the thought of you being so one day. Pushing the burning sensation down he made his way to the hallway you had mentioned he could find a bed.

Finding the first door he came across open he felt his jaw slide open. Your hair was down damp, wearing obscenely short sleep shorts and a tank top that strained against pebbled nipples. Swallowing away the dryness in his throat Bucky looked towards the ceiling before clearing his throat. 

“Where’s the guest room?” You tilted your head at him in confusion. Turning down the sheets you crawled into the bed.

“What guest room?” Bucky eyes stopped tracing patterns in the ceiling design to look back at you in equal confusion.

“You said a bed was down the hall.” Your hand gestured to the bed in reply as you lay on your side. You tried and failed to cover the smile as Bucky became flustered with realization.

“I’ll take the couch.” You frowned at him and patted the open space next to you.

“Don’t be silly, the bed is big enough for both of us,” you couldn’t help the coquettish smile that pulls on your lips, “Unless you’re scared of sleeping next to me.”

Bucky swallows the growing lump in his throat. He wasn’t scared of you, never had been regardless of some teammates’ concerns. His main concern lay with the ever-growing attraction he felt toward you. 

Bucky felt himself caving, the last time the two of you shared a bed it was after rather traumatic night terror this was different. This wasn’t comfort-based. 

“I won’t bite you Bucky,” bending your arm and resting the side of your head on the palm of your hand, you watch with growing interest at what the super soldier will do.

Laying down next to you Bucky folds his arms under his head and turns his head towards you with that beautiful smile that took your breath away more often than not.

“That’s a shame Toots.” You sputter at his response and turn towards the side table under the guise of turning the light off to hide the pink tainting your cheeks and moving down to your chest.

With your back to him, you lay down and close your eyes, trying to push down the desire to curl up to the warmth radiating off his body. Bucky let out a huff hot air pushing against your back, he wraps his metal arm over your stomach, warm flesh arm snaking under you to pull your back to his chest.

Before you can start verbal spar over his actions he locks his arms around you, fingers curling into the softness of your abdomen. The intimacy of the touch taking away any thoughts you tried to voice. There was unfamiliar security in his touch that left you wearisome. Resigning that you wouldn’t be able to stop this, and honestly not wanting to you close your eyes once more. 

Bucky satisfied at your body relaxing into his hold he smiles against the top of your head.

“So is this a get to know the weird father-daughter relationship moment?” Bucky teased into your ear.

You groan a hand flying back to smack him in the head but he grabs it pulling it down to rest on your abdomen encased by his arm. You could practically hear your heartbeat thudding in your chest as his fingers intertwined with yours. Certain his superhuman hearing picking up on it.

“This is a go-to-sleep moment,” you hiss out. Trying to quell the fluttering in your chest.

“I’m not tired though.” Bucky whines in your ear, “Tell me a story,” his fingers curling into your palm between your fingers. Looking down at where he held your hand you could feel yourself giving in. Oh, how easy it would be to just fall for Bucky Barnes.

“There once was a little girl,” Bucky pulls you flush to him, leaning his head down to nuzzle into your neck inhaling deep. You were fairly certain he could feel the increasing pace of your pulse at the touch.

“Things were good for her, for a while,” closing your eyes you continue, letting his embrace soothe your growing unease at opening up. “She had a father who would pat her head sometimes but outside of that he had no love to give her but that was okay because her mother who loved her so much made up for the loss,”

“Sounds like a great mom,” Bucky whispers against your neck, his lips resting against your pulse.

“She was, she tried so hard to make her little girl happy,” you paused “But they knew something was different about their little girl. She broke bottles, toys, and cribs with the slightest grip of her fingers. One time she held a glass too tight and it shattered,” You smirked recalling the panic in your mother and father, time having a way to make the most macabre funny.

“That was the only time the little girl saw her mother cry.” Though remembering your mother’s fear was not all that funny.

“After that, her mother kept smiling and telling her how special and wonderful she was. Neither of them knew what to do with their child. As the little girl grew her mother taught her to be cautious of pressure, always guiding the little girl’s tiny but powerful hands.” Bucky pulled your hand from against your stomach eyes peering from your neck. He notices the faint scars on the palms of your hand.

“Gentle hands like your holding an egg,” you mused, “That’s what her mom would say.” 

“What happened to her,” Bucky’s face so close to your neck you could feel the heat and moisture.

“She was murdered,” Bucky’s body tensed around you, your monotone recount of her death chilling. “Someone tried to rob the butchery, she stood up against them and paid the ultimate price.” 

“There were no more gentle hands, just the overwhelming drive of vengeance and a cold distant father.” You felt Bucky slowly relax around you, his head nuzzling into your neck once more. “He asked the mob for help in getting the person who did it in exchange for services. I was 11 at the time and Marco was just a business associate of my dad’s to me.”

“Then I killed that man who touched my friend I held worth to my father for once, he made a trade.” You trembled at the memory of being handed off to the mob, you could almost hear your cries at your father’s retreating figure. Bucky cocoons you with his warmth and the feel of his chest even breathing slowly reeling you back to the present.

He turns you in his embrace, laying you flat on the bed as he remains on his side. You didn’t know you had been crying until the cool pad of his metal fingers and warmth of his flesh thumb wipe them from your cheeks.

“You didn’t have a choice Toots, you were their weapon.” You shake your head in his hands.

“No you didn’t have a choice, I did. I could have left,” Bucky’s lips downturn at the omission. “I choose to kill those people for them and I will work until my dying breath to kill the right ones from now on.” Not wanting to talk about it anymore, you bury your face into his chest and sigh with content at the feel of Bucky’s embrace and smell surrounding you. 

“I’m not saying we had the same choices or the same circumstances that led us to do what we did but I will say,” Bucky pauses lifting your chin up but you keep your eyes closed.

“Don’t ever tame your demons Toots, they keep you alive.” Opening your eyes you hold your breath at the sight of moonlight illuminating his face. You knew Bucky was handsome but coupled with his words and gentle touch you never believed a human being could be so beautiful to you. It scared you. 

Burrowing your face back into his chest he lets out a soft chuckle. He wraps his arms around you, dipping his face down into your hair, inhaling deep. The two of you slowly drift to sleep.


End file.
